


The Forest

by WinterPixie



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Complete, Elves, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Magic, Not Beta Read, Talking Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterPixie/pseuds/WinterPixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Curiosity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Forest

“Stay away from the forest.”  
“Don’t ever go to the forest.”  
“The forest is dangerous.” This is what the people of the village tell their children from the day they are born. The forest was full of things. Not all evil things, but if the villagers know this, they do not care. All they care about is that the forest and everything in it is evil, and if you go into it you either never come out or come out warped. So they stayed out of the forest and told their children to do the same.  
They went about their days as normal: getting chores done, going to work, and saying things like:  
“The forest is evil.”  
“There are evil things in the forest.”  
“You stay out of the forest, you hear?” to the occasional child who inevitably asked  
“Why can’t we go into the forest? It can’t be _that_ bad.”  
There was a girl in the village that everyone called Curiosity. The girl had a name but everyone had been calling her Curiosity since she was a toddler so no one, save her father the blacksmith, could remember her real name. She earned her named from the endless questions she asked about things. When she was younger the villagers tried calling her Inquire but later decided that indicated that she was a scholar and loved to learn. When in reality it was the opposite. She was a smart girl but she hated reading and found learning to be tedious. She just wanted to know _‘why?’_ and _‘how?’_  
“How did it work?”  
“Why did it work?” Questions like this were asked on a daily basis. She went around the village, (after she was done with her chores), with the leather bound book she had gotten for her 6th birthday asking her questions.  
The book was filled with her questions and people’s answers. From how the yeast in the bread knew when to rise to how the fire from her father’s forge turned hard metal to a soft putty. But there was one question that she could not get answered.  
“What’s in the forest?” she would ask.  
“Evil things.” The villagers would answer.  
“But what _kind_ of evil things?”  
It was this question that caused whoever she was asking would reply with “Does it matter? Evil is evil.”, “Stay away from the forest, young lady.” And once, after she had asked a few to many questions of the baker a, “Dammit girl! Just stay away from the forest and give me a few moments of peace!”  
Eventually she stopped asking. She went about her days asking questions and, when she turned of age, questioning marriage proposals.  
“Why do you want to marry me?”  
“Yes, but _why?_ ” She would continue to question the young man who proposed to her until he walked away, or she ran out of questions and declined. She always declined.  
But during her nights, when the only light comes from her father’s forge’s fire, she would stand on the edge of the village, right behind the protective circle, (“Do we _really_ need a protective circle around the village?”  
“The forest is evil. The circle will keep what’s in it out at night.”), and stare into the forest. She would try to find shapes in the shadows, try to find voices in the sounds and, on nights when she became frustrated with her inability to see or hear anything, she would shuffle her feet until all she had to do was lean forward a little and she would cross the circle, at the mercy of whatever was in the forest.  
What Curiosity did not know was that the small lights she thought were fireflies were the Fae, trying to convince her to step outside the circle, to come into the forest and, ultimately, never come out. And that the sounds she heard were the tress, wondering what the girl at the edge of the circle was and if she would ever step over it, while a few knew she would never do such a thing.  
So they were, pleasantly, surprised when one night she did.  
To this day Curiosity doesn’t know why she stepped outside the protective circle. Why she decided that night to go into the forest when she was warned time and time again never to do such a thing.  
In truth Curiosity was sad. She did the same thing day in and day out with nothing ever changing. Looking into the forest at night, thinking something might happen is what kept a smile on her face. It was what kept her from yelling at her father in a rage because he would rather train a boy as an apprentice to own the forge instead of his own daughter. It kept her from becoming cold to others. It had become her lit candle on a black night.  
Curiosity’s father was not an unkind man. It was known that, despite his bulk and his height, he would rather go flower picking with his daughter than work in his forge if it put a smile on her face. He knew Curiosity was not happy in the village. He knew the difference between her true smile and the strained one she now wore day to day. He also knew that she stood on the very edge of the protective circle, staring into the forest every night. He knew, but he did not say anything, for the way stood there relaxed with a soft smile, a true smile, on her face was enough to tell him that doing what she was doing made her happy. And he would never deny his beloved daughter her happiness.  
So the night that Curiosity stepped over the circle, he called to her. Now Curiosity, fully expecting to be yelled at, was surprised when her father gave her a small bag with food and a blanket tucked inside. “For however long you are gone, you will always be my beloved daughter.” He said, laying a kiss on her forehead before turning and walking back to his forge to finish his work for the night.  
So that night Curiosity went into the forest. She went in with a smile on her face and not an ounce of doubt or guilt in her heart now that she knew she had her father’s approval. She went into the forest with nothing but the dress she was wearing and a bag that held some food, a blanket, and, after a second, her leather bound book.  
The Fae watched her father give Curiosity the bag and wondered why the blacksmith did not stop the girl. The trees wondered if the girl would ever leave the forest once she saw what was inside. They watched as the girl walked into the forest and continue walking, her smile growing with each step deeper into the mess of and trees and with seeing the small bodies of the Fae but not stopping.  
The next morning the villagers found evidence of someone leaving the village and walking into the forest. And when they looked, they saw that Curiosity was missing. It didn’t take long for them to figure out that she had gone into the forest. But the villagers did not go looking for her. “These things happened. Not often, but they happen,” they said.  
And it was a good thing they did not go looking for the girl. For during the few hours that she had been gone, Curiosity had wormed her way into the forest, becoming one of the inhabitants, as if she had always lived there. The forest wouldn’t give her up without a fight.  
A few years later there is a girl standing not the edge of the protective circle. She is on the outside, looking in. She couldn’t be no more than ten years of age. Her hair is brown and her skin is a pale green (although it’s not the kind where you think she’s about to heave up her breakfast). But that compares nothing to her ears. They were pointed at the tip yet they strangely fitted the girl.  
Eventually one of the villagers walked over asking who she was and what was she doing. “Im looking for my grandfather.” She said, her brown eyes unwavering.  
“Well who is your grandfather?” the villager asked the strange girl, now noticing how she stayed outside the circle, instead of walking in.  
“He lives in that house.” She said, pointing to where the village blacksmith lives. By now others had noticed the girl and were standing by, watching. When she pointed toward the house, the villagers started to whisper amongst themselves.  
_“The blacksmith?”_  
“That can’t be.”  
“He does have a daughter.”  
“And she did go into the forest.”  
“Then that means…..”  
“I can’t believe it!”  
The villagers went quiet though when the blacksmith came out. He was on old man by now, although he could still work in the forge. He went over to the girl and knelt down on one knew, looking her over. He noticed how her eyes were almost an exact replica shade to her mother’s, and how they lit up when she saw him.  
“Hello Elm. How are you today?” His words caused the villagers to start to whisper again.  
_“He know her?!”_  
“Maybe she is his granddaughter.”  
“Then that means…”  
“I don’t believe it!”  
“I am fine grandfather. Mother sent me ahead to tell you see was coming to visit tomorrow.” The girl, now known as Elm, said smiling. “She also said for me to say that she is bringing the baby too.”  
“Is that so? Well I can’t wait. Would you like to come in for some tea Elm?”  
“No thank you grandfather. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that Elm turned and walked back into the forest, seemly blending into the forage. When she was gone the blacksmith stood up and, ignoring his creaking joints, turned back toward his home. Ignoring the villagers’ questions he began to ready his house for company.  
The next day there were four people at the edge of the circle. There was a brown-haired woman carrying a green-haired baby in her arms, a green-haired man on her right and little Elm holding onto her left leg. The villagers looked on in horror as the family walked toward the blacksmith’s home. But what caused the horror was the family’s ears. The man and the baby both had pointed ears, although the man’s were more prominent than either the baby’s or little Elm’s. The woman’s weren’t pointed at all.  
A few villagers gasped, recognizing the woman as Curiosity. No one had ever thought she would come back after she went into the forest. Now here she was, alive and healthy, with two children and what was clearly a creature of the forest. The villagers could not believe it.  
She was happy. The blacksmith could tell that immediately. His baby girl came home after twelve years with two kids and a man at her side and she was happy. He didn’t care that _‘the man’_ wasn’t human, or that the children weren’t fully human either. His daughter was happy and that was all he cared about. After hugging his daughter and being allowed to hold his grandson (“His name is Jackson.”  
“You named him after me?”  
“Of course father. Your one of the, now three, most important men in my life.”  
“I know one is this little fellow in my arms, who is the second?” Curiosity threw back her head laughed, her husband cracking a smile.), he sat down with his daughter’s husband while Curiosity took Elm and Jackson outside to show them where she grew up.  
“My name is Willow, sir.” The man said. The blacksmith looked him over. It was clear the man was a hunter, but of what kind, he didn’t know. But the man was clearly very tall. He was the tallest person in the village and Willow could look him square in the eye when they are both standing on equal ground. He had Elm’s green-tinted skin and baby Jackson’s dark-green hair. His eyes were also green, although they were an extremely pale shade. All in all the blacksmith approved of the man his daughter chose.  
But he still felt he had to say, “You take care of Mary, alright?”  
“I wouldn’t do anything else.” Willow replied smiling, knowing that he had the old man’s approval. Nodding his head, the blacksmith got up to call his daughter in, to see her in the doorway with Elm and baby Jackson fast asleep in her arms and a small smile on her face.  
Mary Thorn is married to Willow Thorn, mother of Elm and Jackson Thorn, daughter of Jackson Brooke and his deceased wife Agatha and is known in the village of Midnight as Curiosity. And she couldn’t be happier that she walked into the forest that night, all those twelve years ago, back when she was 18.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to criticism!


End file.
